What I Feels Like

By Raymond Farr

An Einstein flash frozen
On a river bank

Of cool pants
The voices ranting 5 am then 6 am

I is cutting film
Into a scene

Black
Without pause

The actor says plants
I makes him less solid

Permeable
To cure
The suitor

He hisses aloud

Under glazing ur-texts
I reiterates:

My sauce is triple
That of my Rolodex

A microscopic twig
With which to shave

The I
While otherwise engaged

Rolls of film droop
From reels

A reminiscence of
Dropping calls

Falling off
About April
Or May

This business of misfortune
Has good luck

Edited all out of it
The mice have straws

For ear canals
I has come here

A betting man
The wages are death

Though Baba Gonging
The actor-king

Is practiced at words
& out of I’s mind

I crosses over
Naked

My life is a movie I

Steps on
A plaza

Disconnected
But an instrument has failed

His peaches shifting
In back of his truck

Spill out
On Alewife Brook Parkway

Paused in a catalyzed suit
A state is a trooper

The distance forgets
I has been waiting

Selected like fruit for…

I dunno…
What it is I peals like

Six or nine

I rotates each STOP sign
According to legends

On a place mat map
I mangos among speeches

I sets out patrolling
The waters for

Sharks that’re limits
Uncouth

As a stag film
Actor missing teeth

I saw a bon vivant
An altruist by nature